The north of Israel is a land of cellphones. For towns that still lack plumbing in large percentages of the houses, routing phone lines is a definite second (or twenty-second) priority. Which is all to say that getting online isn’t particularly easy – it usually depends on the good graces of shop and restaurant owners willing to unplug their credit card terminals for me to log on. That makes checking email tough, and blogging nearly impossible. So, my apologies for the recent lack of posts.

That said, here a few more random thoughts that have bouncing around in my head during the spare moments in our long, long, long shooting days:

ï You know you’ve been gone for too long when you have to look up your own office telephone number.

ï “When the country falls into chaos, patriotism is born.” – Tao Te Ching

ï The Arab citizens of the Galilee maintain the gift culture of their forefathers – compliment someone’s shirt, and he’ll literally offer it to you off their back. The region’s Jews, similarly, being largely of recent Eastern European extraction, come from a world where a four course meal is happily presented to guests as a light afternoon snack. Let the two cultures cross-pollinate long enough, as they have here, and any time you walk within 100 feet of someone’s home, they’ll empty their refrigerator onto their porch-front table, refusing to let you go until you’ve eaten with them, until you’ve drank several cups of the strongest coffee in the entire world.

ï About that coffee: As Chris, the film’s director, this morning pointed out, when we arrived nearly a month ago, it seemed undrinkably strong, like condensed espresso mixed with day old coffee grinds. Now, it seems just about right. Combine that with the Coke ubiquitously served with meals, and I’ve somehow gone from an essentially caffeine-free diet to more or less mainlining the stuff. On days off, when we aren’t plied with cup after cup of coffee as we move from house to house, I find myself in serious withdrawal: migraine, light shakes. Returning to my New York caffeine-free life is going to be a bitch.

ï Shortly before I left for this trip, I managed to break my camera’s main lens. And, as I didn’t really have time to get it fixed in the whirlwind of frenzied pre-trip preparations, I convinced myself that I didn’t really need to bring it along, that I’d be fine simply grabbing occasional snapshots with my pocket digital. It has since occurred to me that I made the completely wrong choice. Still, I’m looking forward to the remaining handful of shorter trips to Sakhnin, as I suspect there’s a great and imminently publishable photo-essay to be found here.

ï Karmiel, the slightly larger Jewish city next to Sakhnin where we’re staying, is a great reminder of how little I get for the money in New York. Here, one of the players on the team has a huge three-bedroom house with mountain views from his backyard that he rents for about $500 a month. Dinner for four – with drinks and dessert – runs $50.

ï That said, Karmiel’s – and Sakhnin’s – cultural life leaves a bit to be desired. Outside of the soccer team, it seems to be mainly limited to watching goats. When our trip ends in a week, I’ll be more than ready to head back home.